


Dreaming of Tetris

by Harmonic_Wisp



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, The Tetris Effect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:00:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29762775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harmonic_Wisp/pseuds/Harmonic_Wisp
Summary: Fleur didn't quite understand it, but if a bunch of polyominos helped her girlfriend get a little more sleep at night, then so be it.And if Fleur got a little bonus out of the deal?Even Better.
Relationships: Fleur Delacour/Hermione Granger
Comments: 7
Kudos: 137





	Dreaming of Tetris

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Spekulatius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spekulatius/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don't own the world of Harry Potter, but that's not gonna stop me from playing in this mud pit until someone finally gets tired of me leaving foot prints everywhere and hoses me down. _Even then!_
> 
> Apologies in advance - I don't know where this nonsense came from but it's clear that I need adult supervision lest I subject you folks to more of this.

Fleur Delacour is incredibly observant. This would come as a surprise for most people, if only because it was often the last thing on anyone’s mind when they saw her for the first time. Not that she could really blame them. It took the part-Veela a long time to finally come to terms with the fact that she was genetically predisposed to be leered at, but she had long since gotten over it. But one of the benefits to the fact that most were too preoccupied to pay attention to her was that she could people watch all she wanted and most wouldn’t really notice. 

Fleur’s observation skills came in handy while she was a frequently harassed teenager at Beauxbatons. Her insight was  _ literally _ a life saver during the war with Voldemort. And now, four years after that miserable conflict’s end, it was incredibly useful in her relationship with one Hermione Granger. 

The two had honestly met because the French champion had noticed the brunette’s nearly obsessive routine back in  _ ‘94. _ Save for the occasional  _ hiccup, _ —one that normally came about because a certain  _ boy-who-hated-hyphens _ was in trouble— Fleur was able to figure out exactly where Hermione was at any given moment just by checking what day and time it was. 

Tuesday afternoon at two? Hermione was with Flitwick comparing notes on the latest  _ Charms _ Journal. Saturday nights just after supper? The English Witch was interrogating the Elves in the Hogwarts kitchens. Thursday nights two hours before curfew? Spent in the library blushing profusely and glaring at a certain foreign blonde beauty who would insist on sharing a table just so she could flirt with the frankly brilliant fourth year. 

Honestly, if Hermione hadn’t enjoyed her company or the onslaught of compliments then the younger girl wouldn’t have come back every week. 

Seven years, a war, and an embarrassing string of chaotic yet entirely amusing disasters —Ginny Weasley was really one of the only few that knew of them and had the balls to maintain that whatever messes Fleur and Hermione had gotten into were  _ dates—  _ and Fleur still enjoyed teasing the brilliant brunette into a ruddy, glaring mess. 

“Fleur, we’re going to be late! I wanted to leave fifteen minutes ago, but you’ve done nothing to help me find my purse!” 

Like now, for instance. Hermione paused in her frantic search to glare at her not at all helpful girlfriend. Fleur for her part didn’t even flinch at the scathing tone and smiled in return. 

“I cannot help it,  _ ma douce. _ I love to watch you get  _ hot and flustered  _ in front of me.” Fleur waggled her eyebrows suggestively, and although the bright flush was prominently on display on the other woman’s cheeks, the accusatory glare was replaced by a roll of the eyes and marked amusement. At the sight of her girlfriend’s laughter, the blonde gave herself a metaphorical pat on the back. 

_ ‘Mission accomplished.’ _ Fleur smiled, stood up and met the other woman in a loose embrace. The easy feeling of belonging and comfort allowed the normally high strung witch to melt into her lover’s hold, and the two just spent a few moments enjoying the feel of the other. As brown orbs met blue, attentive eyes made note of the harried application of concealer and Fleur breathed out a note of concern. “You didn’t sleep last night, did you?” 

There was a sheepish grimace on Hermione’s face, and Fleur didn’t like it one bit. 

“I got a little bit of sleep.”

“You should have woken me up, I could have helped.”

“There’s no need for the both of us to lose rest over this, I’ll be fine.” 

Fleur pursed her lips at her girlfriend’s stubborn front but didn’t call her out on it. The former Gryffindor was notoriously independent, and there were many moments where pride would beat out logic and common sense. Even if it was at the detriment of Hermione’s well being. So Fleur tried for an alternative to the argument that was on the tip of her tongue.

“We could stay home, laze about in bed instead?” For a moment, Hermione looked sorely tempted, but she steeled herself in such a way that the blonde immediately knew that there was no way that they were staying in. 

“Thank you, but you know we can’t. My parents…” The guilt that pooled in her eyes was enough for Fleur to drop the matter entirely as her lips gently pressed against her significant other’s forehead. 

“I know,  _ mon coeur,  _ you would not miss lunch with your parents for the world.” After the war, it had taken a year for Hermione and her parents to get back to a relationship not riddled with awkward moments and compacted guilt but they had done it for the most part. But there were still occasions where the pragmatic witch would find herself trapped in regret. And if she had any say in the matter, Fleur would make sure to never allow the brunette to wallow in her self deprecation. The routine lunch with the Granger parents every other Tuesday helped on every front.

Even if going meant not confronting the consequences of yet another night of post-war nightmares. The part-Veela sighed and with a flick of her wand she summoned Hermione’s previously missing purse, kissed the embarrassment from the muggleborn’s momentary forgetfulness regarding the usefulness of magick right off her face, and ushered them towards the floo. 

“Come on, the sooner we have lunch the sooner we can come back and I can ravish you into submission in bed.” 

“Fleur!” 

-oOo-

Lunch with the Grangers was an enjoyable affair. While earlier attempts were stilted at best, neither Hermione nor her parents ever gave up and eventually worked through a lot of the issues they had regarding the war that was thrust upon their daughter or their forced migration to Australia. Fleur could honestly say that it was an interesting roller coaster of emotions to bear witness to, if only for the fact that she had been a participant of every post-war lunch date with her girlfriend’s parents since its inception and had literally seen it all. 

Today they were at a Vietnamese fusion restaurant on the muggle side of things. Fleur had never heard of a  _ “Bánh mì” _ prior to today, but after they were done here she was dragging her girlfriend to the nearest asian mart in an attempt to recreate her newest addiction whenever she wanted. 

“Fleur, you’re being ridiculous. It’s delicious, but isn’t it  _ just _ a sandwich?” Hermione had to work really hard to not start giggling right then and there. They had long since finished their meal, but the French witch had decided to order a second  _ Bánh mì _ so she could study it in depth in her quest to recreate the Vietnamese sandwich. 

And to eat for later, obviously. 

Fleur interrupted her incredibly important research to shoot a scandalized look at the brunette.

_ “Excuse me! _ It is  _ not _ ‘just a sandwich,’ as you say.  _ C’est une ouevre d’art!” _

The look of utter seriousness on the French witch’s face was enough. Hermione lost the battle of wills and started giggling in earnest. 

“Well, good to know that we picked well this time.” 

The two bantering women froze and sheepishly turned towards the couple across the table. Anna and David Granger were content with watching their daughter and her girlfriend be entertaining. Out of all of the things they’ve learned of their daughter since the end of her sixth year at Hogwarts, her serious relationship with one Fleur Delacour was probably the one they had the least contention with. The two women balanced each other well, and it was good to know that there was at least one person who Hermione was willing to rely on when things got rough, even if it was only for a little bit. 

“Your selection was absolutely superb, Anna.” 

The look of utter seriousness on Fleur’s face nearly caused her girlfriend’s mother to follow her daughter into her giggling fit. Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to get  _ some _ semblance of control back, but the smile was fairly evident anyway.

“She’s right mum, this was good. Thank you again for lunch.” 

The  _ thank you for forgiving me, _ was left unsaid. 

The two elder Grangers shared a weighted look between each other at the subsequent undertone in their daughter’s voice. While there would always be a sour reminder of what had happened between them, they had hoped that it would eventually fade with both time and effort on all their parts. And in regards to their relationship as a family, that much was true. But it was clear to them though that Hermione still shouldered much of what had happened to her over the course of that tumultuous time that should’ve been spent studying for her seventh year exams. And while she was a fully capable adult on her own, they were still her parents.

There were still things they could do to help.

David nodded to his wife and as she went to go rummage in her bag and he turned to the couple opposite them.

“Well, food wasn’t the only thing on the agenda today. Your mother and I have something for you, poppet.” 

“Mum, Dad, you really didn’t have to get me anything.” Hermione protested as her mother neatly plopped a small gift bag in the younger Granger’s hands. 

“Nonsense, dear! We’re allowed to spoil you every now and then. Now go on, open it!” Anna Granger waved her hand excitedly at the present. As Fleur hovered over her right side in curiosity, Hermione rolled her eyes and tentatively opened the bag. The sight of its contents made her eyes bug out in surprise.

“Wait, is this-?!” 

The stunned witch reverently pulled out two boxes, though it did little to answer Fleur’s visible confusion. The larger of the two packages showed the picture of a rectangular device with a garishly reflective color scheme and the words  **“GAMEBOY”** and  **“Color”** written on different parts of the box. The second box had an even more confusing design on the front, with various little blocky shapes in a plethora of colors and the words  **“TETRIS”** spelled out at the top. What was this? Whatever it was, her girlfriend had yet to tear her eyes from either of the items. And were those  _ tears?! _

“Hermione?” 

Fleur tentatively touched the other woman’s arm, to both check on her and to show her support even though she was more than lost on what was happening. The brunette placed both items back in the bag they came in before she gave her girlfriend a reassuring gesture in turn. She turned a watery smile towards her parents, and the part-Veela could tell that there were equal measures of thankfulness and nostalgia in that look. Fleur was even more curious about the two gifts and after it was clear that Hermione was a little more than lost for words at that moment, she had decided to take getting answers into her own hands.

“Forgive me for my ignorance, but what were those things?” 

“Well, you’re well aware that our daughter is quite the reader.” Fleur accidentally let out an unladylike snort at Anna’s more than obvious quip. There wasn’t a person in the Wizarding side of the United Kingdom that didn’t know Hermione’s predilection for the written word; it was even on the girl’s Chocolate Frog card! “While we were rather happy that she was so well read while growing up, it was a little worrying that she didn’t really have any other hobbies so we tried to introduce her to a number of random activities over the years to see what would stick.” 

“She humored us more than often than not, but then one day just a few years before she had gotten her Hogwarts letter one of our secretaries had introduced her to a curious little toy from Japan. I’ve never seen Hermione so taken with something that wasn’t ink on paper before that! We ended up buying a Gameboy for her shortly after that.”

The rest of the table’s occupants amusedly ignored the pointed  _ Muuuuuuuuuum! _ that came from the aforementioned brunette. Both of Hermione’s parents took it upon themselves to explain the nifty little gift they had given their daughter. An “electronic toy” used to entertain muggle children that took “cartridges” to play various different games depending on what was placed inside. Interesting!

“And there was just something about this game from Russia that had little Hermione hooked. We had to hide all the batteries in the house at one point lest she went through them all!” 

The table laughed, even Hermione, at the image of a miniature version of the brunette running about the house in an attempt to find more juice to power her addiction.

“I wasn’t  _ that _ bad.” The studious witch pouted at her parents, though she only got an indulgent smile in return, especially from her father.

“Poppet, you got to the point where the local librarian wondered if you were sick since you actually hadn’t stepped foot in the public library for a whole weekend! I hadn’t the heart to tell the poor woman that you weren’t sick, you just hadn’t opened a book in three days.” Fleur’s jaw actually dropped at this. While the brunette had gotten better over the years, there was still a reason why she was known as the resident  _ swot _ in their friend group. Their shared apartment alone had extensive reinforcement charms done on it if only so that the floor wouldn’t collapse under the sheer weight of all the floor to ceiling bookshelves that were bursting at the seams and were lining their walls. “And while we were a tad worried over you having yet another thing to strain your eyes on, it had some interesting benefits too.” 

“Oh?” Fleur raised an eyebrow at this tidbit. From what she got of the brief description of the accompanying “cartridge,”, it was just a simple game of geometric shapes and with a goal to clear lines as one was given pieces at random. She was still at a loss as to how or why her girlfriend could get addicted to such an elementary concept, much less the idea that it had any meaningful benefits.

“Oh yes! While she didn’t quite binge the game as much as when she first had picked it up, Hermione would still play it for at least an hour a day or so. Whenever she did, she was notably… calmer.” Hermione’s mother shot her daughter a rueful smile, to which the younger woman only answered back by sticking her tongue out. “It’s true! Even back then, you had a hard time slowing down, especially when you were in the midst of learning something new.” 

“We spotted it in a store recently and we thought of you. We figured you’d like another shot at beating your old high score. Think of it as a…  _ muggle _ break once in a while.” 

_ A break from your nightmares, _ was yet another message left unsaid.

Hermione gripped the gift bag in one hand, and Fleur’s hand in the other.

“Thanks Mum, Dad. I’ll… I’ll give it a shot.” 

-oOo-

To say that Fleur was skeptical was an understatement. It’s not that she doubted it due to its mundane origins. She herself was a budding fan of muggle cinema, and there were a few dramas on the telly that she regularly caught up with now. It was more  _ the concept _ that she found herself questioning. 

Watch the blocks, which Hermione dutifully called “Tetriminos”, drop to the ground. Spin and manipulate them as necessary to make a line on the grid. Make a full horizontal line and watch it disappear.  _ Profit. _ It was  _ Tetris _ in a nutshell, and Fleur had no idea why her girlfriend was so enamoured with it! The French witch had even given the little handheld device a try, but couldn’t quite get into it to do more than thirty seconds of the game. It wasn’t confusing so much as it was a little too simple for her tastes.

Hermione on the other hand? From the moment the brunette sat down with the device to the moment she turned it off, she was this impenetrable fortress of quiet concentration. It was eerily like when the bookworm would find an interesting tome and would invest all of her attention on it for hours or days at a time. 

Except at the same time it wasn’t. 

The furrow between her brows that often appeared when she was in the midst of processing new information wasn’t there. Nor was there the undertone of tension that was frequently present when Hermione was in one of her  _ researching moods. _ In fact, the normally frazzled witch had this aura of immutable calm that her girlfriend had rarely, if ever, seen outside of the woman’s slumbering moments. 

And even then nightmares made an unconscious peace nearly impossible most nights. 

But then  _ Tetris _ seemed to help even when Hermione wasn’t awake. Fleur wasn’t sure how, but on the days that Hermione managed to squeeze in at least an hour of play on her  _ Gameboy, _ she would more often than not go through the night without a single nightmare. And the part-Veela could tell that her girlfriend was  _ actually _ getting sleep, and not just trying to hide it like she often did. 

It was baffling.

Fleur couldn’t be happier by the outcome.

That and there was an unintended benefit for the blonde in all this. 

Fleur had come home from a shift at Gringotts that had run late and had spotted the brunette curled up on the corner of the couch in the living room, with a now familiar plastic electronic in her hands. Judging by the fact that there was still a hint of steam from the obviously ignored teacup beside her, she had just started yet another gaming session. 

_ ‘Perfect.’ _

The cursebreaker hurriedly hopped into the shower, and then got dressed into a silk camisole and a pair of matching shorts before she returned to the living room. The scene hadn’t changed, though Fleur was sure that the poor cuppa hadn’t been touched. The observant woman grinned before she walked over to the other witch and then proceeded to carefully scoop the smaller of the two up in a cradle hold. Other than the slight  _ squeak _ of surprise, Hermione didn’t react, her eyes still carefully focused on the tiny screen in front of her. 

“Hello,  _ ma douce." _

“Hi,  _ love.” _

The exchanged greeting was almost mumbled out, and practically monotone in response to Fleur’s affectionate overture. Most would likely call the brunette out for being rude or unfeeling, but the older of the two women had previously watched Hermione utterly ignore her best friend of more than a decade when Harry had stopped by to drop off some freshly baked cookies. The fact that the girl’s sworn brother in arms hadn’t even been acknowledged, even when he had her favorite treats in hand, said more about Hermione’s level of hyperfocus on these little geometric shapes at the time than anything else. Even back when they had first met, Fleur was one of the  _ very _ few who was capable of and also  _ allowed _ to bother the brilliant witch when she was honed in on something. 

The French witch promptly spun and sat herself in Hermione’s previously occupied spot on the couch, and adjusted the distracted woman in her arms so she could cuddle the girl properly. Fleur had learned early on to not mess with the girl’s hands or arms while she played, or to obstruct Hermione’s vision of the screen. 

But everything else? That was fair game. 

And from the way that Hermione burrowed herself backwards into her girlfriend’s chest, Fleur clearly had permission to do so. She started off with a hand that traveled underneath the loose sleep shirt that the gamer had opted for that night, and carefully skimmed the sensitive olive skin on the taut stomach that she knew laid beneath the innocent cotton fabric. Since the war and the year that was supposed to be Hermione’s seventh, the brunette had opted to maintain a runner’s physique. While it was out of paranoia than any desire for the aesthetic, Fleur nonetheless enjoyed making the lithe, wiry body writhe beneath her dexterous hands. 

This was a body made to outrun the world. Fleur intended to make her girlfriend gasp a marathon on her lap.

Determined fingers shifted upwards towards two globes she had long since claimed as  _ hers, _ and felt the involuntary shiver race through the responsive body that leaned flush against her own. 

As Fleur moved to lick the shell of Hermione’s ear, she glanced at the miniature screen that her girlfriend was so determined to focus on and watched as a single  _ S-piece _ was put into its perfect place. 

Hermione’s concentration was unwavering.

Fleur always loved a challenge.

Like a spirit of temptation and lust incarnate, the blonde pressed her lips hard against her partner’s neck so that she could  _ exactly _ feel the cheshire smile as it slowly formed. Both sets of eyes never left the miniature digital display in front of them, but the mischievous woman could discern when Hermione subtly tensed for the briefest of moments. It was only the faintest ripple, one that told Fleur that the brilliant creature encased in her arms knew what she was up to. Then those same muscles melted back to a languid calm, and when Hermione continued to tap away at the little plastic buttons, Fleur realized it was both an assent to continue and a challenge all at once.

_ ‘Do your worst.’ _

Fleur waited until the little square tetrimino landed in place before she abruptly palmed Hermione’s left tit. The French witch had briefly tried  _ Tetris, _ had manipulated the  _ d-pad _ and buttons to make the shapes answer to her whims. And as Hermione rotated an  _ L-piece _ , Fleur proceeded to caress and fondle the globe in time to the tetrimino’s movements. 

For someone who was so outwardly lethargic, the brunette spun and manipulated the pixelated blocks as easily and efficiently as she did magic with her wand. Pieces dropped at a dizzying speed that the witch behind her could barely keep up with her eyes. That didn’t seem to matter so much because the sound of her partner’s panting had turned sharp and staggered, especially when the part-Veela decided to pinch and tweak the pre-occupied woman’s nipples. 

In response, Hermione dropped an  _ I-piece _ and cleared four whole lines.  _ Tetris. _

Fleur huffed and with her other hand slipped underneath the cheeky woman’s knickers and sunk two fingers deep in already wet confines. Hermione gasped and barely managed to fling the toy to an unoccupied armchair near them so she could reach behind her and pull her lover’s head close as she  _ arched _ in pleasure. 

_ “Damn it, _ Fleur!” 

The growl of frustration was  _ adorable _ and Fleur wanted more. She tilted her head so that Hermione’s lips were just a hair’s breadth away from her own.

“Ah, would you say that was a…  _ back to back, _ mon amour?”

“Oh shut up and  _ kiss me _ —  _ ah!” _

The voracious blonde giggled and acquiesced, though not before hitting a certain spot  _ right there _ that made the younger woman grind harder on Fleur’s hand. Fleur continued to  _ nip and tease  _ her lover as her left hand proceeded to turn the other woman to veritable mush. She knew that the moment Hermione got her wits about her that the tables would turn. But for now, as she felt her girlfriend’s walls flutter and her name screamed out for all in their complex to hear, Fleur decided that  _ Tetris _ was her all time favorite  _ muggle _ game. 

_ ‘Time to try for a high score.’ _

And then Hermione’s groan quickly turned to a series of moans as the blonde decided to try for round two. 

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
> C’est une ouevre d’art! - It's a work of art! (rough translation)
> 
> An excerpt from the wikipedia entry.
>
>>   
> The Tetris effect (also known as Tetris syndrome) occurs when people devote so much time and attention to an activity that it begins to pattern their thoughts, mental images, and dreams. It takes its name from the video game Tetris.
>> 
>> People who have played Tetris for a prolonged amount of time can find themselves thinking about ways different shapes in the real world can fit together, such as the boxes on a supermarket shelf or the buildings on a street. They may see coloured images of pieces falling into place on an invisible layout at the edges of their visual fields or when they close their eyes. They may see such coloured, moving images when they are falling asleep, a form of hypnagogic imagery.  
> 
> 
> I've personally experienced this. When I was younger, I would sit for hours playing Tetris on my DS and there were nights where I would close my eyes and all I would see are Tetriminos. Some researchers have surmised that the phenomena would be a helpful and powerful tool in the face of trauma, especially if it was applied soon after the incident.
> 
> My thoughts for this were on a post-War Hermione, and how maybe a little fun from her muggle upbringing might be just the thing to help. It may not totally erase everything that she went through, but it would probably help with how utterly unconnected and untainted it is in comparison to the trauma she went through. At least, that's my thought process on the matter. 
> 
> It was cute and wholesome, and then Fleur decided to waggle her eyebrows and take advantage of the situation. I swear, that last scene was not planned and I'm still wondering how or why I wrote it. Damned characters taking over my plot lines...
> 
> Does the last part of this sound utterly ridiculous? Well, that's because it is. I _did_ apologize in advance earlier!
> 
> This is also a gift to my wonderful friend Efi, who whooped my butt in Tetr.io a thousand times. I can't wait to play a thousand more games with you!


End file.
